


Pardon

by BruceChickinson



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pride Month 2018, Red String of Fate, Religion, Sanji Is Not A Vinsmoke, ZoSan Month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-18 02:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14843898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BruceChickinson/pseuds/BruceChickinson
Summary: A few years ago, Sanji was very confused when his red thread of fate broke. Still, he believed that he and his soulmate would fatally meet.





	Pardon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HikariMat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HikariMat/gifts).



> Based on the prompt "Everyone has a red string of fate, tying soul mates to each other. You don't want to have it, so you cut your string using a pair of scissors."
> 
> Much based on a very Catholic childhood, although hyperbolic here.
> 
> Inspired by and written for HikariMat who loves Akai Ito.

Zoro found the idea of love unbearable. And to think that everyone was bound to meet the person at the other end of their lines…What if they were annoying? Someone like his sister, for example. He would be stuck for the rest of his life with someone whom fate chose for him, it sounded like a bad joke. Several times he threatened to cut his scarlet thread as a pun. Kuina always rolled her eyes and laughed.

His sister had died. That annoying, unbearable creature, who had always inflicted hell on him, had died. And it hurt so much that Zoro wanted to tear his heart out of his chest and feel nothing else. The boy tried not to cry, remembering how hypocritical he had been for the countless times he had told his sister, after some argument with their father, to wipe her eyes and raise her head. He had not cried during the funeral, his nails cut the thick skin of the boy's hands, but he kept his expression sulky. But now that he was home, his face was completely drenched with salty and thick tears and his head was sunk between his arms. Zoro opened his bleary eyes and stared at the red blur that stood out from the background. The thread that was tied to his pinky. No, he could not tear his heart out, but there was something else he could do. He picked up a pair of scissors and cut the red thread. Love was stupid. That thread was stupid. He would never be so close to anyone, he would never suffer like this ever again.

 

***

 

It was a winter afternoon, when Sanji confessed for the first time.

The Vinsmoke family was a very catholic one. Sanji always participated actively on the activities involving the church. Since he could remember, Christianity and the concepts of hell, sins and the devil were hammered in into his head (mostly by his father). Sanji was baptized, of course, when he was a baby. He was doing what was usual for him: reading scripture, reciting prayers, praying the Rosary. All this stuff were almost his hobbies since it was basically what he did besides studying. Sanji's father was very strict, and raised him almost as a saint. This meant, of course, that the boy lost a lot of his childhood spending sunny days indoors and remembering every piece of scripture he could. Right now, there he was, in a line of other 10-year-old boys, waiting to confess the sins he didn't even thought he had. The teacher gave them some tips for a good confession.

 

“Sanji, in order to confess, you need to prepare your little heart. Exam your conscience. That means confronting yourself to the word of God and distinguishing your own incoherencies, defects and weaknesses by act, thought and omission. Feel pain and disgust at the sins you committed. Confess to the priest, God's ambassador, every sin by type and number.  The penitential exercise which the confessor suggests is given as a means of helping to promote the full reparation of the disease of sin.”

 

Sanji heard the words carelessly, as he heard them enough the 100 first times his father told them to him. He kept waiting his turn with a steady heartbeat, until it became closer and closer and he felt a droplet of sweat form above his forehead. He entered the room, sat awkwardly and waited for the priest to say something.  After a minute or so he realized he wasn't gaining any help from the old man and said himself

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."

The priest told him to go on and it was like pure torture to him. He actually didn't recall any sins he committed, although probably his father could name a thousand. He couldn't bring himself to say stupid things like "I had a fight with my brother" or "I called my friend a shitty marimo". You were born in sin. Your existence itself it's surrounded by it. This shouldn't be hard to do, right? He remained silent for what seemed like a thousand minutes, drowning in his own shyness until the old man spoke to him from the other side of the confessional.

 

"Won't you say anything, boy?"

 

Sanji's thoughts were all scrambled, he couldn't tell why exactly. Maybe the whole confession atmosphere gave him the chills, it was something that made him sick just by sitting at the confessional beside the priest. But he couldn't point this finger onto why. The priest then dismissed him with some confessional exercise after another silent bunch of minutes. He was relieved to get out of there, but, at the same time, he had a pungent sensation in the back of his already tired stomach, the sensation of unpleasing his father and the fear of getting home. He eventually got there and, no surprise, his father was waiting him.

 

Since the happening, Sanji was forced to confess monthly. And he intensified his prayers. Every time he begged forgiveness and named his sins he got sick of his stomach. But he kept doing it, too afraid of the promise of the eternal flame.

"Pardonnez-moi, Signeur...Please, God, forgive me."

 

That was how almost all of his prayers started. Every time before bed he had to make sure to say those words, as if the more he said it, more chances he had to be forgiven and not burn in the deep fires of hell.

 

"Pardonnez-moi, Signeur...Please, God, forgive me."

 

***

It was a summer _afternoon_. A particularly hot summer afternoon.

Sanji sweated, locked in his bedroom, studying Bible lessons for Sunday.

 

“Aren’t you hot?” Said a familiar voice from the window.

 

Sanji took a fright and fell awkwardly from the chair.

 

"What the fuck ...?" He said, snorting and rising from the floor, rushing to put the golden fringe on the right place.

 

He had met Zoro casually in the neighborhood and since then the fights and the veiled affection never ceased.

 

"Did you know that for a church boy, you have a very dirty mouth, curly?" Zoro said while jumping into the blond’s room.

 

"I have much better manners than you. Did I invite you in, by the way? "Sanji asked, pointing his finger on the boy's torso.

 

"Oh yeah... and a sewage mouth..." Zoro shifted from the blond’s kick and gasped. "Is that fish new?"

 

"Ah... yes..." Sanji said, looking back at the aquarium.

 

"Cool..." Zoro watched the black fish moving tediously in the water. "And what's its name?"

 

"Zorro." Sanji said and Zoro could have sworn that he’d seen a light pink tone spread across the little chef’s cheeks. The problem was by the heat that was feeling in his own cheekbones, his cheeks were probably just as red.

 

"Are you an idiot? Why did you put my name on a fish?” Zoro forced himself to grimace.

 

"YOU’re the idiot. It's Z O R R O. Like the movie. "

 

"Oh," Zoro replied scratching the back of his neck.

 

They lay on the cold floor of Sanji's bedroom side by side and fell silent. Sometimes it was just hours like that. Zoro dozed off most of those times and Sanji just watched his chest rise and fall as he listened to the quiet breathing of the stoic boy who never lowered his guard but strangely didn’t mind being vulnerable when he was with him.

"Did you see Yonji out there flaunting the girl who’s his soul mate?" Sanji asked rhetorically to Zoro, who was snoring. "I wonder if I'll ever be that lucky." He whispered more to himself than to the sleepyhead by his side.

 

A few years ago, Sanji was very confused when his red thread broke. He woke up and his thread that normally disappeared on the horizon was now hanging from his pinkie above ground level. He never knew anyone with this problem. Had his soulmate died? Nah, if that was the case the thread would have disappeared, he knew that much. But it was still there, as scarlet as ever. It was not even in Sanji's mind to undo the knot. He was an incorrigible romantic, he was sure that someday he would meet the girl who was destined for him. But how, if they were no longer connected? Well, he would find her, somehow he would. Time passed and Sanji didn’t find his soulmate. He watched the couples as he sighed, but no girl had ever made his heart beat in the right way, no girl seemed to be responsible for the broken thread that he carried on his finger. His brothers all had girlfriends. He was the only one still waiting, and he had so much love to give. Sometimes he became pessimistic. He thought about all the possibilities, he thought his special person was avoiding him, he thought that maybe she just wanted to be free, and it didn’t help that his brothers made so much fun of him because of it. But whatever happened, whatever time passed, he would find the one that was once intertwined with him. They would fatally meet.

After reaching puberty, however, things changed a bit. Sanji's prayers tripled, and he noticed something that frightened him. Sanji knew he liked women. It had always been that way, and that was very natural for him. However, at some point he discovered that he also had an interest in men. That shook him a lot. It was one of the things his father despised the most. Even as a child he could see Judge's blood boiling at the mere mention of his son being a "little fag." Later on, his father certainly appreciated his devotion to women (in a chaste and Christian manner, of course). But the fear still lingered, like a monster in his stomach that devoured him from the inside. And if his soulmate were a ... No. He did not even want to think about it.

This could not be happening. No, it was not happening. "So why is my dick so hard?" He started to go crazy. He could not avoid thinking about men in a sexual way, or avoiding touching myself at those thoughts. And every time he did, he prayed. The urge to untie the thread of his finger for the possibility of his fear becoming zero became unbearably great.

 

"Pardonnez-moi, Signeur...Please, God, forgive me."

 

***

 

It was an  _autumn afternoon_. Zoro's favorite season. They were lying on the grass, appreciating the oranges that colored the sky and feeling comfortable. It had been a few months since they had finished high school and they already had jobs, both of them were very excited about the future.

On the previous day, he was talking to Sanji on the phone. Zoro looked at the eyes of his own reflection in the mirror during the call. His pupils were huge, surrounded by a very thin green iris. Shit. Was he...?

He was a complete idiot. Of course he was. He had been in love with him for years. He could stay up all night thinking of him. The birds would start to sing and the sunshine would bathe his eyes with an uncomfortable light and a silly smile would still be plastered on his face. Because even the rays of shunshine reminds him of Sanji, of the golden hair of the apprentice chef. Everything around him is muted when Zoro’s focus is on him. There’s no multitasking that can withstand a good dose of Sanji, he easily ties himself in the other's web, drowns pleasurably in his deep sea, loses himself (not something he does often, of course) in his labyrinths. Speaking of labyrinths, he wanted the good god whom he always have cursed (a guy gotta try, right?) to give him the gift of tasting the labyrinths of his lips. His mouth is so perfect, it looks like it was drawn carefully, and to taste of its sweetness would certainly be sweeter than honey itself. And maybe that's the gayer thing he's ever thought or felt in his entire life. Maybe Zoro's crazy. But just for now, he’d like to pour out his love, because it is so much that it’s actually already overflowing out of himself. Every feeling he had kept to himself since that time, since when he was tiny and forever cursed love. All that he vowed never to feel so as not to suffer. Everything seems to have blown up the dam and flooded his heart. And it's so familiar but so distant. Because he hadn’t felt this way in a long time, electrified and stunned with love. Every detail matters, every little thing makes him happy and makes him curse himself for once having cursed love. He wants to hug him. He wants to kiss him. He wants his feelings to be transmitted by wet kisses that the two of them would exchange, as they already do every night in his dreams. He wanted him to feel what he feels. He wanted a manual on what to do, some advice on how to proceed. He is in love with the other. Every heartbeat is for him, every gleam in his gaze is his, and every smile that crossed his lips was because of him. This is how he feels, though he would never say it out loud. Full of the desire to give him everything he has. Maybe he’s being too sugary, but he’s that way just for him, only for him. He wanted his smiles to be his, so Zoro would smile too. He wanted his lips to be his, he would kiss them with all the love in his heart. He wanted his tears to be his, so Sanji never had to shed them again.

 

"I want you, I love you." That was what was visible in the green-haired man’s dilated pupil.

 

He was so stupid that he spent all this time trying to avoid love that now he loved someone who believed in soulmates and was doomed to find his own.

Then, in a moment of courage, Zoro broke his comfort by confessing to something that had long been in his mind. It was not exactly what was clear in his eyes, but it was the first step to that, he thought.

 

"You know ... I like boys."

 

A sepulchral silence followed Zoro's words. Sanji had stopped breathing, he didn’t even move. His whole face hidden under golden strands. Zoro waited for some reaction, some answer, but he knew it was not coming. So, he stood up, leaning on his hand, trying to stare at the blond in vain.

 

"Do you think I'm unnatural? An abomination? Do you think I'll burn in Hell??"

 

It was a shy nod, but it definitely was there, and the boy didn't miss it. For Zoro the colors of his favorite season dissolved into greyness.

He got up and left the blond there. Sanji’s fringe covered his whole face right now and the hair was getting stuck on his cheeks due to the wetness of his bitter tears.

 

"Pardonnez-moi, Signeur...Please, God, forgive me."

 

***

 

It was a spring afternoon. The flowers were beautiful all over town. But the most beautiful was the one Sanji extended toward the man in front of him.

They hadn’t seen each other in a few months, ironically Zoro moved away from the neighborhood right after that day. Sanji spent several self-deprecating weeks in his room until he took the courage to gather what he had earned from his job at the restaurant and leave the Vinsmoke mansion. Then, he spent another couple of weeks summoning courage to do what he had always wanted to do: finding his soulmate. But finding isn’t the proper term, accepting his soulmate actually. The one that was his from the beginning, since the gods had tied that scarlet thread on their fingers, whether Judge Vinsmoke liked it or not.

 

"Are you serious? Is this some kind of joke?" The other raged, hurt tingling his voice.

 

"When you agreed back then...It hurt so much." He let himself say in a whisper after a while. "I told you, even though I knew about your church bullshit, because you were the one I was sure wouldn't judge me...and you did exactly the opposite. That nod...that fucking nod, and the fact you wouldn't even look me in the face..." Zoro let the words stray away, careful not to turn this into anger, which he so deeply repressed all those months.

 

Hearing this stung. A lot. He remembered it all too well. If he forced his memory he could still feel his hair attached to his face as he tried not to sob through his bangs. Now, hearing him actually say the words, hearing his loved one saying how much he had hurt him, was way worse. Because he was supposed to be his friend. Because this man was always there for him, when he was sad, lonely, when his father wouldn't let him play with the other kids. He was there infuriating him and throwing knowing smirks at him. He was there consoling him after all of his precious fish died. He was there when he was still getting nauseated from being forced to confess. He was there stealing a chaste kiss from him when they were both 7 and didn't even know what sexuality was. And he should have been there for him too. He should not have hesitated, even for a thousandth of a second, even if the reins of his creation pulled him into darkness and plunged him into fear and anguish of being that way, of being "abnormal."

Sanji almost couldn't bear to look the man in the eye. But he owned him this much and he endured the piercing look of those dark eyes, almost as if they could speak only through the gaze. But sometimes words do need to be spoken, so they can be properly processed. Sanji knew what he should do. He spent so much time asking forgiveness from an invisible god, and now, in front of him, was someone flesh and blood, who really deserved it.

 

"Please, forgive me" He spoke, trying to keep his voice steady. Zoro's lips parted slightly, he'd never even heard a "sorry" from the blond before.

 

The blond removed his hand from his pocket and touched Zoro's face, as if caressing the warm skin of his face could show all his affection for the boy, as if he could show that he never meant to hurt him. As if he did not have the right or the courage to kiss him yet.

Sanji stopped the movement and took the boy's hand in his hand. Zoro watched in confusion as Sanji apparently tied something invisible to his little finger. When he finished the knot, Zoro began to see, the thread he hadn’t seen for so many years. Sanji noticed he was staring.

 

"I spent my whole life wondering why my stupid soulmate would do that just for us to have twice the trouble. Of course it could only be you, you retard." He smiled fondly.

 

When he cut the thread, Zoro didn’t understand that it was just a representation. The hearts remain connected regardless of the symbolic thread in sight. And facing that supposedly soulmate of his, annoying, so different and so similar, two sides of the same coin, it was impossible not to feel that they were made for each other. Since they were kids, and it never changed.

" The thread may stretch or tangle, but will never break." That's what the rule said.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, let me know ♡


End file.
